Balancing Fate
by Blacklist1000
Summary: The scales of Fate have been brought out of balance. Two worlds, never supposed to meet, have met. Heroes have begun to work together, battling their enemies as friends. But they have a long way to go before they are united. Will Fortune be with them? Or will Fate work against them? Read on. Post The Last Olympian, during Goblet of Fire.
1. Prologue

_**Hey readers! This is my attempt at a Percy Jackson and Harry Potter crossover. I am trying to keep everyone in character as far as possible without damaging the plot, so do tell me if I have gone wrong unintentionally.**_

_**Guys, Chapter 5 of "The Seventh Child – Prophecy of the Seven" should be up soon – oh damn. I should not have said that. I should not have told you that. Oh well…**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus, Harry Potter and all associated characters.**_

* * *

_**Prologue**_

_Camp Half Blood_

If one possessed the ability to fly, without wings or machine, and then hovered over Long Island, one may be blessed enough to see some sort of resort. A strange resort, but a happy place, no doubt. And this would not be far from the truth. For only a week before, on the eighteenth of August, a Great War had taken place. Had one possessed the ability to see what was happening at Manhattan, they would have noticed forty teenagers, no older than sixteen years of age, fighting swarms of monsters. But the greatest battle was not in the streets. Quite to the contrary, the battle of battles had taken place in the skies, six hundred stories above Earth. Mount Olympus. The home of the Greek Gods and Goddesses. They truly were immortal, even going so far as to populate the world with their children - demigods, they called themselves. They were powerful beings, each owning a weapon capable of mass destruction. Oh, it was not always a physical manifestation, for sometimes, as eleven-year-old Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena rightly said, "Sometimes even strength has to bow to wisdom." Nonetheless, they were powerful beings, capable of controlling the forces of nature in contravention to the laws of science that mortals had propagated. They defended the world from evil, the most recent of which was the dangerous monster Typhon and the Titan Kronos.

The week before, in the Throne Room of Mount Olympus, the Titan Lord had been defeated by Perseus 'Percy' Jackson and Annabeth Chase, with help from their satyr friend, Grover Underwood. Percy had been offered godhood as a reward for his services to Olympus, but he turned it down in favour of helping the undetermined demigods get recognised and respected, as everyone deserved. Annabeth had become the Architect of Olympus, and Grover a Lord of the Wild.

At Camp Half Blood, two people walked slowly on the beach, savouring their time alone together. The hero and heroine of Olympus, Percy and Annabeth were enjoying their time together. They had been best friends for almost five whole years before, on the day the Titan War ended, he finally asked her out. They had been through a lot, and were basking in the peace, hoping that it would last. They had no idea how wrong they would be.

A conch horn sounded in the distance. Percy smiled at the thought of food, especially his favourite drink, blue cherry coke, and suddenly bent down, picked Annabeth up, threw her over his shoulder and raced to the dining pavilion. She shrieked, and pounded his back even though she knew he wouldn't get hurt. Percy laughed at her efforts and set her down at the Athena table, which he never dared approach with a pole for fear that Athena herself would smite him for dating her daughter. He knew she was one of the worst enemies to make, simply because while Ares or Dionysus would attack him or curse him, Athena would find a way to get back at him, Hero of Olympus or not. And he liked to stay with his parts intact, thank you very much.

Annabeth laughed, "Seaweed Brain, my mom won't do anything to you, why don't you drop me off at my seat?" She said. He could hear the smile in her words. He smirked, and dropped her on the floor. She yelped in mock pain, and glared up at him. She got up, dusted herself off and put her hands on her hips, still glaring at him. He cringed and she smirked a little. "Perseus Jackson. Why did you drop me?" She said with gritted teeth, daring him to say something he would regret. He slowly backed away from her, trying to reach his table, but she wouldn't let him. Ah. He then remembered the issues with dating a daughter of Athena. Too damn smart.

Percy was saved from an extremely embarrassing situation by Chiron stamping his hoof on the pavilion floor, at his position by the head table. He made his usual announcements about how sacrifices, and introduced two new campers, a Daughter of Hecate and a Son of Hermes. They were both directed to the Hermes cabin, since the Hecate cabin hadn't been built yet. Connor Stoll welcomed them, and Percy shuddered, pitying the new kids' plights. The Stoll brothers, contrary to popular belief, were not twins, but a year apart in age. They were the Camp's pranksters, their most favourite target being Katie Gardener from the Demeter cabin. Of course, everyone knew that Travis only pranked Katie to get her attention; he really liked her. Percy snickered to himself, and smiled at Annabeth when she came up to his table.

"Hey seaweed brain, have you forgotten that we have swordsmanship now? And that you are supposed to be teaching?" She said, the slightest hint of humour lining her voice. Percy said something real intelligent like, "Uh... Huh?" He snapped out of his reverie, and ran off to his cabin, just to realise that the arena was in the opposite direction. "Styx!" He cursed, ignoring the thunder that rumbled above his head.

He reached his swordsmanship class slightly out of breath, but that didn't prevent him from putting everyone, especially the newbies, through their paces. He was a good teacher, patient and kind, yet firm, and emanated an aura of calmness, like the sea on a cloudless day. He had no idea that his day would get a lot more complicated.

After swordsmanship, Annabeth was called to help a new Athena camper. Percy went to the beach to practise his powers over water, for he was the Son of Poseidon. He began by trying to summon water from within himself, as he had learned when he inadvertently blew up Mt. Saint Helen's. He managed to form a small ball of water, about the size of a tennis ball, marveling at the clearness and purity, something which the waters of the East River and Hudson distinctly lacked. The importance of the sand dollar struck him then, for it had cleansed the river of pollution, something anyone with a connection to water no doubt craved. He then worked on evaporating it, freezing it. Suddenly he had an idea. He stood knee deep in the water of Long Island Sound and threw the ball of ice as far as he could. As soon as it left his hand, he focused on it and tried controlling its motion. At first, he wasn't able to, but in the end, his efforts were rewarded by the ball zooming back to his hand. Satisfied that he had learned a new power, he looked at his watch. He had an hour and a half before he went to meet Annabeth. He dove into the water, talking to the creatures, until a school of hippocampi raced up to him.

"My Lord, we need your help! A nymph is being tortured near here, lord!" they neighed in Percy's mind.

Anger filled Percy's mind as he thought of an innocent person being helplessly punished. He shot off through the sea, forcing the currents to propel his journey, and arrived there quickly. He was greeted by a scene he wouldn't forget in a hurry. Triton was attacking a nymph with lust in his eyes, and the poor nymph was unable to defend herself from his onslaught. Percy uncapped Anaklusmos, and swam in front of Triton, separating him from the nymph. Triton's eyes quickly changed emotion, from lustful to furious. The hippocampi took the battered nymph away carefully, while others spread the word about the imminent fight between the Princes of the Sea.

Triton faced Percy, both of them rising through the ocean while circling each other. They were in the centre of the ocean, one wielding a trident, the other a sword, both glowing with an aura of power, being children of the sea in their domain. Without warning, Triton rushed Percy, aiming to run him through with his trident. But Percy wasn't known as the best swordsman in 300 years at Camp Half-Blood for no reason. He glided to the side, using the water to support his movements, simultaneously manoeuvring his sword to block the trident jab. The resounding clang of divine metals crashing against each other could be heard miles away in the ocean. Percy summoned the currents between him and Triton, realising that Triton had interpreted his interference as a challenge, and that he was now at the mercy of the water god. Sure, he had faced off against Titans, but he had had help. This would be a different battle. The sea would constantly have to choose between its Princes, and that meant that he couldn't rely on his powers over water much. He would have to hold Triton off for as long as possible. Hopefully, his father would come and put an end to this madness. With a jolt, he realised that even his father was helpless. Stopping this would create a rift in his already fragile family, one that may not be reparable. He would have to beat Triton or be beaten by the enraged grandson of Oceanus.

Percy was brought back to his situation when he felt the currents change. He looked up and saw Triton charging at him, eyes smouldering with anger. He braced himself for a hard fight, and wasn't disappointed. They exchanged blows rapidly, neither backing down, both bolstered by the presence of water all around them. Percy then crossed blades with Triton, forcing him to pause. He put pressure on the currents above him, and had them push him down, surprising Triton. He quickly shot towards Triton from behind, shocking him, and ran his sword through his side.

Triton's eyes bulged. The fury in them was palpable. He ripped Riptide out of his body, and burst into his divine form, sending out a blast of energy, causing Percy to black out from the surge of energy that passed through his body. His unconscious form was thrown back into the depths of the oceans.

* * *

Percy groaned. He had washed up on the shore of some sort of lake, and his body was aching. He looked around, trying to rub the stars from his eyes. His head pounded, possibly the after effect of Tritons energy blast. Suddenly, a hellhound attacked him from the shadows. Percy was thrown back into a tree, caught off guard by the sudden attack. He stood up shakily, taking Riptide out of his pocket and uncapping it slowly. He braced himself for the inevitable attack, and wasn't disappointed by the vicious lunge the hellhound took at him. What he was not expecting, however, was being shadow travelled along with the hellhound. He tried smashing it with riptide, but it was knocked out of his hand, and it would be a few minutes before it returned to him. The hellhound clawed at him, ripping his orange camp t shirt apart. Suddenly Percy felt the familiar cold that he had come to associate with shadow travel. All he knew was darkness.

* * *

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbhedore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

Customarily, new appointments to staff were greeted with a round of applause. Evidently, the entire school forgot about this custom, with the exception of Dumbledore and Hagrid. They clapped briefly for Professor Moody, but it sounded hollow against the silence of the Great Hall.

Sensing the tension in the Great Hall, Dumbledore continued his speech, "As I was saying, I have great pleasure in announcing the Hogwarts will be -"

CRASH!

For the second time that night, Dumbledore was interrupted by the arrival of a stranger. A boy, no older than sixteen, with tousled jet-black hair and brilliant sea green eyes, crashed into the Slytherin table, right in front of Malfoy. Suddenly, all the shadows in the room seemed to gravitate towards one spot, and from that spot burst a huge dog. The dog pounced on the boy and a high-pitched squeal could be heard from Malfoy. The boy scrambled backwards on the table picked up some sort of knife and tried slashing at the beast. It promptly burst into a fine golden dust that drifted away into the air. The boy collapsed onto the table, unconscious.

There was a moment of absolute silence in the Great Hall. Then everyone began to panic. There were screams all around the room, and everyone began to stampede their way out of the Great Hall.

"SILENCE!"

That one word solicited a complete halt of movement in the Hall. Every single student, ghost and teacher froze in whatever they were doing. Even Crabbe and Goyle stopped stuffing their faces with cake to listen to Dumbledore. He went on, in a much calmer voice, "Will all prefects please escort their houses to their respective dormitories. Will all teachers please accompany me to the hospital wing? Madame Pomphrey, if you will -" he concluded, waving a hand in the general direction of the boy.

The teachers all rose as one, and Madame Pomphrey waved her wand at the boy who had put a crack in the Slytherin table. She transfigured his clothes into hospital robes, and levitated him all the way to the hospital wing. Once there, she laid him down on one of the beds, and went into her office. The teachers all surrounded the bed, taking up various positions around the boy - some sitting, some standing, until Madame Pomphrey bustled through to the bed. She fed him some Wideye or Awakening Potion and turned to Dumbledore. "He should wake up within the hour, Headmaster," she said. The rest of the teachers sighed and went back to their duties on the first day of term - checking their Houses were in order and preparing for their classes, which would begin the next day.

After the teachers left, however, the boy began to jerk violently in his bed. Sparks flew out of his body, and Madame Pomphrey whirled around in alarm. She took out her wand, and tried to place a restraining charm on him, but nothing happened. She turned to Dumbledore, who immediately understood what she wanted him to do. He took out his wand and gracefully cast a spell to subdue the teen's irrational response to the potion - for what else could it be? However, like Madame Pomphrey, his spell had no effect on the boy. On the contrary, it only seemed to accelerate his "fit". Dumbledore was shocked. Never had he read of such an event - where some young witch or wizard reacted adversely to the use of healing and offensive magic. Of course, Madame Pomphrey had levitated him earlier, but she had not done anything _to_ the boy, hence the lack of a reaction then.

Suddenly, the fit subsided, and the boy's eyes shot open. Dumbledore looked at his eyes and was shocked by the infinite power they seemed to hold. They were like the sea on a stormy day, conflicting with itself and the tips of the waves bearing no colour. These weren't the eyes of an innocent schoolboy. These were the eyes of those people who had experienced loss. These were the eyes Dumbledore saw in the existing members of the original Order of the Phoenix. These were the eyes he saw when he looked into the mirror when he thought about Ariana. These were eyes that had seen death and destruction, pain and misery, and above all, loss.

"Wh-where am I?" said the boy, his hand drifting to a nonexistent pocket. "Who are you? Where are my clothes!" he added, becoming slightly hysterical. True, he was no longer shooting out sparks, but that did not encourage Dumbledore to approach the boy. Keeping his distance, the Headmaster replied, "You, my boy, are at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school, and a wizard. I suspect, by the fact that you were able to enter our grounds and halls, that you are indeed one too. But first, what is your name?"

"Perseus - although I go by Percy - Jackson, sir." Percy replied hesitantly. He was confused. Wizards? This man spoke with a clear British accent, indicating that he was somewhere in Britain, but he remembered fighting Triton off the coast of New York. He supposed that if the Gods could exist, then so could the wizards. He asked the old man - he had to be old, what will all that silvery hair, "Sir, what is the date?"

Albus Dumbledore was intrigued. This boy had a distinct American accent. He seemed to accept that he was a wizard quite calmly, although he obviously had not heard of the place beforehand. He replied, "It is 1st September, Mr. Jackson. Might I ask where you are from?"

"New York." said Percy immediately. He realised he was far away from home, and had been out for almost a week after his fight with Triton. It was probably some cruel trick of the Fates. Would he never have peace in his life?

"Do you know of Harry Potter?" asked Dumbledore. He knew that this was the surest test of wizardry - there was no soul who was a part of the wizarding world who did not know who Harry Potter was.

"Harry Potter? I don't, Headmaster. Should I?" he replied, that confused look still on his face.

Dumbledore sat back on the chair he had conjured up for himself a while ago, stroking his beard, deep in thought. This boy - Percy - evidently did not know of the wizarding world at all. So he decided to tell him. After all, if his deductions were right, this boy had seen war, and could possibly be a good friend to Harry if ever Voldemort rose again - something that was evident, especially considering Harry's rather vivid dream over the summer.

"Harry Potter is somewhat a legend in our world, Mr. Jackson. He is the subject of a terrible prophecy that, thirteen years ago, led to the slaughter of his parents by a Dark and evil wizard named Lord Voldemort." Percy let out a snort at this, but remained silent, intrigued by the story of this boy. Dumbledore was amused at the reaction to the name, but knew that this boy was exceptionally brave, or simply did not know the damage Tom Riddle had wrought upon the world. Choosing to go with the latter, he went on, "But Voldemort could not kill little Harry. The curse that he had used to kill him, rebounded upon him, and he vanished that night. Ever since then, Harry Potter has been known as the Boy-Who-Lived, with a characteristic scar on his forehead that seems to share a unique connection with Voldemort. This connection has led us to believe that Lord Voldemort is attempting to rise again, just as he tried twice these past three years."

Percy was silent for a while, and thought heavily on the course of action he should follow. He had a strange feeling that he should not be there, but at the same time that he belonged there. He realised that these _wizards_ knew nothing of the gods, and decided to keep it that way. He also knew that if there was a war coming, maybe he could help. After all, he was the son of one of the Big Three, and he wanted to help avoid the loss of life as far as possible.

"Sir, do you really believe that a war is coming?" asked Percy carefully. The answer to this would determine whether he would stay or leave this place.

"I do, Perseus," said Dumbledore, taking in the boy's flinch at the name, "It certainly feels like it, and I know that sooner or later, Voldemort will rise and threaten this world again, just as he did until thirteen years ago. I fear for the lives of our people when he rises once more."

Percy listened carefully, and knew that his heart had made his decision for him. He could not stand back and let these people fight a war in which he knew, deep down, that he could help change. He said, "Sir, I have seen war. I would like to help you when the time comes, and assist you in the war that you believe is coming. With your permission, sir, may I do so?"

Dumbledore was astounded. He knew that there were precious few who would willingly involve themselves in a war which they could walk away from. He admired the selflessness of the boy, and with these thoughts in his mind, he said, "Very well, then Mr. Jackson. I would like to offer you a place in this school. Tell me, will you attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Yes sir, on one condition," said Percy, after mulling the offer about in his head, "I wish to contact my mother and girlfriend, and let them know where I am, so that they do not panic. A warning though, sir. I have a tendency to get kicked out of every school I attend, through no fault of my own. I will try not to blow up your school, sir, but I give no guarantees."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Do not worry, my boy, we shall work something out. Now, rest, I will have someone bring up food for you tomorrow. We will sort you into your House at dinner, and visit Diagon Alley for all your school materials the day after."

"Um sir? Houses? And sir," said Percy sheepishly, slightly embarrassed, "I haven't any money."

"Houses will be your home, your family, for however long you study at Hogwarts. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, we award the House Cup to the House with the most points. Let us see how this year turns out, hmm, Percy?" said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously, "As for money, Hogwarts has an allowance for those who need it, and we will pay for your education here, Mr. Jackson. But all that later! For now, sleep."

Percy lay down after Dumbledore left, and drifted off into sleep. He hoped he would not have any demigod dreams, but he wasn't in luck. His last thought was that this would be a very interesting year.

Percy then found himself in a palace. He knew it wasn't on Olympus, after all he had been there a few times while Annabeth was reconstructing it. He looked around, and saw three identical old ladies who he had seen only twice before in his life. The Fates. As his eyes fell on them, they spoke in unison, like one voice tripled.

"Perseus Jackson."

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_**Cliffhanger on the Prologue, not very nice of me. Now, I do not have any strict updating schedule, so I will try to do Chapter 1 as soon as I can, but I have my studies and SAT to focus on, so no guarantees.**_

_**Tell me what you think!**_

_**Curtain fall, Blacklist1000**_


	2. Chapter 1

_**Hey readers! This is my attempt at a Percy Jackson and Harry Potter crossover. I am trying to keep everyone in character as far as possible without damaging the plot, so do tell me if I have gone wrong unintentionally.**_

_**A big BIG thank you to the people who have followed, favourited and reviewed. I really hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus, Harry Potter and all associated characters.**_

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_**Chapter 1**_

_Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Percy lay down after Dumbledore left, and drifted off into sleep. He hoped he would not have any demigod dreams, but he wasn't in luck. His last thought was that this would be a very interesting year.

Percy then found himself in a palace. He knew it wasn't on Olympus; after all he had been there a few times while Annabeth was reconstructing it. He looked around, and saw three identical old ladies who he had seen only twice before in his life. The Fates. As his eyes fell on them, they spoke in unison, like one voice tripled.

"Perseus Jackson."

Percy shuddered at the power behind those voices. The Fates, or the Moirai, as they were known in Greek, were the daughters of Ananke, Primordial of Inevitability. Atropos, Clotho and Lachesis were responsible for the deaths of mankind and the lives they led. The fact that they were here, in his dream, indicated that they were either going to tell him something that would change the world, or more probably, something that would make his life intensely more complicated. He bowed to them, unsure of what to do or say. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't try to piss off immortals - it just happened. He knew that the Fates were not immortals he wanted to piss off. Not when he was going to school.

"Perseus Jackson, you are where you should not be. Your decisions and actions have tipped the balance of the universe, and have changed Fate itself. Your destiny is no longer clear to us, but we must rectify this imbalance. Wizards were never supposed to know of demigods and demigods were to never know of the existence of wizards. The Ancient Laws have been broken to eliminate you as a threat, and as a result, we are forced to balance the flow of Fate." said the Fates in that creepy unison.

Percy was confused. Decisions? Actions? He couldn't recall any decisions that he had made. Except... Agreeing to join Hogwarts! The fates seemed to know what he was thinking, and said, "Yes, Perseus. You are the cause for the collision of the two worlds that were never supposed to meet. The reason for your life string to become clouded." at this, Lachesis indicated a sea green string that extended into a thick grey mist, through which nothing was discernible. "You make your own choices now, Perseus Jackson. Just remember that your choices have imbalanced fate. Each choice that you make now, will tip the balance further and further from equilibrium. And the more it tilts away, the more we must add to the other pan to bring it back."

As they spoke, a balance appeared in front of the kneeling Percy. The Mist - magical kind - swirled in front of him, forming an image. He saw in it his fight with Triton, how he blacked out and was carried by the currents and the force of Triton's blast to the deep seas. The scales began to tilt in one direction. Percy saw himself get attacked by the hellhound, and shadow traveled to Hogwarts. The scales began to tilt even further from balance. He saw himself carried to the infirmary, his apparent 'fit' and finally his chat with Dumbledore. The scales had tilted so much by now, that a little more, and they would touch the ground.

Suddenly, Percy saw some ordinary looking weights lying next to the pans of the scales. He walked to the scales, shrouded by Mist, and picked up the weights. Without considering the other possibilities, he did the most natural thing anyone would do at that time. He placed the weights one by one in the pan that was higher, and brought if back to equilibrium. As soon as he did this, the Mist vanished, swirling away to reveal the Fates again.

"You have chosen, Perseus. Whether you chose well or not, however, is not a question we can answer. But know this. Instead of allowing the scales to be imbalanced, you have brought them back, and we will do the same to Fate. You will face trials; for you have altered events that can either cause a great loss of life, or may save many. Your choices are your own. We can only watch now, for there is no going back. You may not change the past, Perseus, so do not dwell on it. Remember, for every action that imbalances the scales, we will have to create a reaction that will balance them again. You have been warned."

"Huh, way to go. Just quote Newton, of all people," Percy muttered under his breath, and stood up. The last thing he saw was his life string glowing brightly in the slowly dissolving dream, almost as if it were trying to tell him something.

Percy shot up in his bed, waking up in a cold sweat. The dream with the Fates had shaken him, and he could not comprehend what had happened in that palace. "I need to talk to Annabeth," he thought. Looking around, he found his belongings on a tray next to him. Picking up a square of ambrosia, he ate it, trying to top up his energy. He then opened the cap of the bottle of water on his bedside table, and manipulated it to form a light mist. He threw a golden drachma - divine currency, with a likeness of Olympus on one side and a god, in this case Poseidon, on the other - into the mist. Instead of falling through, it shimmered into golden sparks and vanished. Percy spoke clearly, "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me Annabeth Chase, probably at Camp Half Blood."

Under normal conditions, an image would have appeared in the mist. But, as usual, Percy's luck wasn't in his favour. His mother would be disappointed in her choice of names. The mist began glowing, emitting a soft light, much like it did a year before, when Bianca tried to contact him from the dead. He was startled. Surely no dead shades wanted to warn him to look after their living siblings?

"Perseus," a voice resounded through the mist, "I am Iris, Goddess of Rainbows. I can connect you to the daughter of Athena, but you must remember that the reception is not good, wherever you are. There seems to be some sort of foreign magic interfering with my power to transmit messages. I can only try to keep the message intact, but be warned - the message may be cut off at any time."

"Yes, Lady Iris, I understand," said Percy, wishing inwardly that for once in his life, the world would work somewhat in his favour. Even the bloody Fates were against him, for Olympus' sake!

An image shimmered into existence. But unlike a normal Iris Message, the mist appeared frayed, like an old carpet, almost as though there was a disturbance in the picture. A blond girl sat at her desk; tear trails visible on her face. She was working furiously with a pencil on some sort of blueprint - a design for a building. She had evidently not been sleeping well, if the bags under her eyes were any indication, and seemed not to have noticed the Iris Message.

"You know, Wise Girl, that piece of paper is going to rip if you try a little harder," said Percy, smirking. Annabeth jumped up, like a singed cat. She whipped her head around, trying to locate the source of her boyfriend's voice. She finally saw the Iris Message, and sighed in relief. She seemed to grow younger in front of Percy's eyes, and looked as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. As Percy thought this, the grey streak in her hair became less pronounced, and seemed to go as close to her natural honey-blonde hair as possible.

Her expression began to change rapidly, shifting from frustration to anger to a blank countenance that scared Percy even more than her anger. Her stormy grey eyes acquired a piercing grey quality, and she looked at him with her hands on her hips. She looks hot when she's pissed, though Percy absently, then mentally slapped himself and tried to keep his ADHD in check.

"PERSEUS JACKSON! Where have you been? It's been a WEEK since you didn't turn up for our date, a WEEK since the gods haven't been able to sense you, and a WEEK since you went missing!"

Percy had zoned out after 'date', but Annabeth's words about the gods came as no surprise. He knew that he wasn't outside the gods' sphere of influence, and that telling Annabeth that they couldn't sense him was a part of the Fates' new personal job to make his life hard. To be honest, he expected a twist like this to arise at some point. The gods were refusing to tell the demigods where he was. He had hoped it would be later than sooner, though.

"-rcy! PERCY!" screamed Annabeth. "You zoned out on me again, Seaweed Brain," she added exasperatedly, in response to his quizzical look.

"Oh," was Percy's elaborate answer. "Well, to put the whole thing in a nutshell, I stopped Triton from raping a nymph, battled him, beat him, got blown all the way from Long Island Sound, across the Atlantic, to a school in Britain - where people speak with all these funny accents - met a hellhound, got shadow traveled to some castle, met these wizards who wave wands and dress like they are from the bloody 14th century, with robes and pointy hats - these guys need the Aphrodite cabin, by the way - then got woken up by some sort of potion, met a guy who wears hair on his chin, white hair, I might add, who offers to have me at his school, and tells me a story about a kid who should have been killed at birth, but wasn't, and now there's another war coming, and I'm stuck helping because the guy guilts me into staying. Crafty old man. Oh and I got visited by the Fates in a dream, and Iris tells me that there is poor connection, whatever that means -" at this point, the screen began to get distorted, and Annabeth looked like she had been stretched into a long tube, before coming back to normal, "oh, never mind. That's what it means."

Annabeth was worried. Percy's rant - for it couldn't be called anything else - had disturbed her. But what alarmed her the most was his casual mention of the Fates.

"The Fates?"

"Is that all you go from that? I just told you about the existence of wizards, Annabeth!" pouted Percy.

"Percy," said Annabeth in a dangerous tone.

"Yeah, they told me that they had to 'balance fate' or whatever that means, 'cause apparently I had disrupted it by deciding to go to school here. Basically, they're going to make my already bad life even worse."

Annabeth was worried. No one just got a visit from the Fates, dreams or otherwise. Percy had seen them thrice already - it was a miracle that he was still alive. Suddenly, the image began distorting, and Percy's image began to waver. Something told Annabeth she didn't have much time left and she said hurriedly, "Don't worry Percy, and just go to school there. I'll tell Sally, hopefully she will understand. And these messages are weird - there is something interfering with them. You need to find a way to contact me, and your mom. I'll tell Chiron, just stay safe Percy!"

"Okay Annabeth, I -" he was cut off before he could continue. Oh well, at least Annabeth knew what had happened to him. She wouldn't worry too much - he hoped. He felt his eyelids droop, and slowly made his way back to the dreamworld that all demigods detested. However, it seemed that Morpheus had pity on him, for he slept peacefully till midday, when he woken up by the loud crack of a small creature dressed in naught but a loincloth, which looked so pitiful that Percy immediately sympathised with it. It bowed low, it's long nose touching the ground. The silver tray it had carried was filled with some of the most delicious looking items Percy had ever seen, not counting his mothers cooking, of course. He asked the creature curiously, "Forgive me if this is a bad question, but what exactly are you? Oh, and you can sit down," he added, a little uncomfortable with the whole bowing business. He had enough of it coming from the Pegasi.

"Blinky is a house elf, sir. We are bound to our masters, and a wizarding house for our entire lives, bound to serve their every whim and fancy. We at Hogwarts is lucky, sir, for we have Professor Dumbledore. He is kind to us, and we is forever in his debt. I was asked to give this you, sir, for you seem to be in a poor condition to go to lunch, sir."

"You got that part right, Blinky," muttered Percy. "Thank you for the food. Would you like some?"

Blinky looked scandalised. "N-no, sir. We are not treated as an equal as a wizard, sir. We are slaves, and when the Dark Lord was powerful, we were treated as vermin. Some still are. Blinky thanks Percy Jackson for his kindness, but she must decline. Percy Jackson truly is, and will be, a great wizard."

Percy was shocked at the words of the little elf. He was so stunned that he did not notice the elf bow and vanish, nor did he notice Professor Dumbledore walk in. Dumbledore looked at the young man, and chuckled deeply, bringing Percy out of his reverie.

"I see you have been acquainted with our little helpers, Mr. Jackson," said Dumbledore, a small smile on his face. He had watched the exchange, and how Percy had treated the elf with the same respect as another human being. American or not, Blinky was definitely right about one thing - Percy Jackson would be a great wizard.

"Uh, yes, Professor," said Percy, unsure of what to say. He picked at the food, idly wondering whether there was anything in it that was not supposed to be there. Dumbledore chuckled.

"I would not poison a new student, my dear boy. As far as anyone in this castle is concerned, you are simply a wizard who had no knowledge of this fact since you had non-magical parents, what we call a Muggle-born."

"Sir, I was wondering. Could you show me some kind of magic that I will be learning?"

"Of course, my boy." Dumbledore pointed his wand at a blanket and said, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Percy watched in awe as the blanket began to float in the air, and then settled back down. Without taking his eyes off the blanket, he said in awe, "That was cool. Did you say Wingardium Leviosa?"

The instant he uttered those words, he felt a slight drain on his energy, and the blanket began to levitate as it had done before. He panicked, and said out loud, "Stop!"

The blanket fell back down to its original place gracefully. Dumbledore was shocked yet again. This boy had used wandless magic, without any training. He was indeed powerful. He said, "Yes, that is what I said."

"Gee, ya think?" said Percy sarcastically, still shocked that he had used magic without realising it. And he didn't even need a wand! This was new. But then again, what wasn't?

Dumbledore said to him, "Mr. Jackson, you still have a choice. Do you still wish to attend Hogwarts?"

He mulled the idea over in his head and said, with a resounding finality, "Yes."

* * *

"To our new students - Welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! Now, we must sort one last student. His magical powers have been hidden away, and he has only recently discovered them, forcing him to be transported here, to learn to control his powers. He has come all the way from America, and is sixteen, but will be studying in the fourth year. Please welcome, Percy Jackson!"

The doors to the Great Hall opened slowly. There was no applause for the mysterious stranger, the boy who had crashed into the Slytherin table. The crack was no longer there, but the memory of it lived on in the minds of every single student of Hogwarts. The boy walked up slightly uncertainly, like he felt as though he didn't belong there, but with an aura of confidence nonetheless.

Percy walked up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, looking around. The ceiling showed a beautiful night sky, and past all the floating candles, he could see the constellation of the Huntress looking down from the heavens. He reminisced the times he spent with the previous lieutenant of the Hunt, and knew that his choice was the correct one; from the way the stars of Zoe's constellation glowed at him from the heavens. He looked back, only to find that he had reached the stool where a tattered hat was kept. Percy failed to see what this was about, and looked at the teacher standing there with a confused look on his face. This teacher exuded an aura of complete strictness and he somehow knew that she was not someone he wanted to cross.

Professor McGonagall said, "The Sorting Hat will decide which House you belong to. Sit down, and we will know."

Percy apprehensively went up to the stool and sat on it. McGonagall slipped the hat on his head, and all he could see was the inside of the Hat. Suddenly, a voice rang out in his head.

_"Well, well, well, what have we here? A demigod, eh? Can't say I've sorted one of you before."_

Percy jumped, his hand reflexively going towards his pocket. His first thought was, _Titan!_ But he realised that it was the Hat.

_"Jumpy, eh? You really are an interesting one. Let me see, yes brave, very brave. Could be Gryffindor -"_

"Gryffindor?" thought Percy, directing his thoughts to the Hat.

_"Yes, lad. Hogwarts has four Houses - Gryffindor, for the brave, Slytherin, for those pure of blood, Ravenclaw, for the wise - now that's out of the window for you - and Hufflepuff, for the loyal. The Houses are named for the founders of Hogwarts, and I was once Gryffindor's hat. They made me intelligent, and now I sort new students into their Houses. Now! Enough talk! I need to Sort you."_

Percy said something really intelligent, like, "Uhh, okay?"

_"Yes, loyal too. In fact it is your flaw. You would sacrifice the world to save a friend, very loyal indeed. You could be a Hufflepuff. Oh what's this? Water? The element of Slytherin. And I see you were offered immortality. That could not have come without ambition. You would do well in Slytherin. You could become great in Slytherin. But you have braved a prophecy, seen a friend die before you, and have tried to fix the world. Indeed you are a great hero. You are difficult to place, but I think it will be... GRYFFINDOR!"_ The hat had yelled the last word out to the entire room, letting the whole room know that after all this time, Percy Jackson was in Gryffindor.

Percy opened his eyes - when did he close them? - to see the hat being removed from his head. He got up from the stool, and noticed that the entire Hall was filled with whispers. From what he gathered as he walked down the aisle trying to find a place to sit, it was uncommon for a sorting to take so long. He finally found a place at the end of the table, and as he sat down, the people around him subconsciously shifted away, affected by his aura. He would have to rein it in. Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"There is a time for speech making, but it is not now. Tuck in!"

The tables magically filled themselves with food. Percy was about to eat, but he remembered that he needed to sacrifice to the gods. He wondered where he could get hold of some fire. The answer struck him when he saw someone using their wand to -turn water to rum? He recalled his ability to levitate the blanket in the hospital wing just by saying those words. Could he do it without speaking? He set apart a portion of his dinner and focused on it, willing it to catch fire. With a flash of fire just as he uttered the words, "Poseidon, Athena," the food disappeared, and a scent of the sea lingered around him. He smiled and ate his fill.

Just as he ate his éclair, Dumbledore stood up and called for silence. The instant he stood up the food vanished, the chatter of the students died down, and all eyes turned to Dumbledore.

"As I was saying yesterday, before I was - ahem - interrupted, this year, Hogwarts will play host to a very special wizarding event - The Triwizard Tournament"

"You're JOKING!" yelled Fred Weasley. The tension in the room, which had only mounted since Percy had been Sorted, diffused rapidly when he said that.

"I am most certainly not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time…no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another. Percy could hear her whisper from his spot at the table, and he felt himself grow a little concerned about this Tournament. Loss of life was not to be trifled with.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in a week, and the selection of the three champions will take place once they arrive. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.

"Now, off to bed, all of you! You have tomorrow, Sunday, to find out whether you have all the equipment you need and to owl your relatives for anything you have missed. Prefects! Lead your Houses to the dormitories, there has been enough excitement for one night!"

Percy stood up with the rest of the Gryffindor table and made to follow out when a sallow faced, pale teacher stopped him. He had long greasy hair and walked like a bat. He stopped in front of Percy and said in a voice filled with loathing, "The Headmaster has asked to see you now, Mr. Jackson."

Percy shrugged. He might as well get this over with.

Dumbledore was waiting for him at the staff table. He told him, "Mr Jackson, we need to purchase your school equipment. If you will come with me, I will help you purchase your belongings. Place your hand on my arm, and I will Apparate us there."

Percy hesitantly placed his hand on Dumbledore's arm, and felt a sudden pressure, he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull.

His feet touched solid ground and he collapsed, trying to get his breath back. Evidently, the curse of Achilles did not extend to transportational magic. He stood up shakily, and looked around, and his jaw dropped. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon-hide gloves, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're barking.…"

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Percy saw a window with broomsticks in it and couldn't help but say, "Broomsticks?"

"Yes, m'boy. I suspect you will be learning the use of one shortly. I strongly recommend you ask one of your year-mates to help you catch up with all the things you have missed. Hermione Granger would be a good idea..." he trailed off.

Percy got all his standard equipment, and finally went to Ollivander's Wand Shop for his wand. He had a trunk, his books, a black owl who did not try to claw him like all the others did when he went near Eyelops. He decided to name the owl Athena, out of respect to the goddess whose daughter he was dating. Dumbledore had only raised an eyebrow at his choice of a name. Percy realised that this was probably the centre of the Wizarding world, much like Times Square back in New York.

As he entered Ollivander's, a frail old man greeted them. He greeted Dumbledore like they were old friends - he certainly seemed old enough - and went on to use a measuring tape to take Percy's measurements. He kept bringing out different wands, and finally brought out a wand. Strangely he seemed to become happier every time the wand Percy used caused some destruction to his shop. He looked at the wand he was holding, and said to Percy, "This is a rare wand, Mr. Jackson. It is the only one of its kind that I am aware of. 10 inches, holly and thestral hair core."

Dumbledore looked up. Percy picked up the wand, and felt a warmth suffuse him. Water shot out of the wand, and coalesced into a ball. Percy knew instinctively that this was his wand.

"Thestral hair is very rare, and powerful Mr. Jackson. Take good care of this wand. Remember, the wand chooses the wizard. That will be seventeen Galleons."

Percy paid him seventeen gold coins, walked out of the store after thanking him. He placed his hand on Dumbledore's proffered arm, and was transported back to his dormitory, along with his belongings. He was so exhausted, that he fell onto his four-poster, and fell into a deep sleep. His last thought was, "Why didn't Dumbledore say anything after leaving Ollivander's?"

* * *

_**Wow, that's another 4600 words. Until next time, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Do tell me what you thought about it in the review box! By the way, this story will be more adventure based, so I'll try putting humour in, but that depends on the story. And yeah, I know the name of the owl was clichéd, but it fits, so hey! I'm not complaining.**_

_**On a side note, do read knowitnone's "The Seventh Child – Prophecy of the Seven". Trust me, the story is good. I'm helping him write it, and his ideas are amazing. Give it shot, if you want.**_

_**Curtain fall, Blacklist1000**_


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